


Crossed Wires

by Sol1056



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-09
Updated: 2005-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056
Summary: "I'm not stupid, Duo. Don't treat me like I am." Quatre wiped his mouth with the napkin, and folded it before setting it aside. "For two years we've all watched Heero pay attention to you at every second, and the way he looks at you. Everyone knew he has—had—a crush on you. And we also weren't ignorant of the way you ate up the attention."





	1. Chapter 1

Over the years, Duo had made a list of all the things he disliked about growing up. At the top of the list were the earliest issues he'd encountered: bank tellers requiring thumbprints to deposit a check, landlords wanting a letter of employment, and remembering to take out the trash the night before rather than having to chase the garbage truck.

And there was the 'getting fined five dollars each time he lost his building badge', which had been a real annoyance until he learned to budget for losing a badge a month. Besides, he was getting to be good friends with the guys down in building security, and at least they now had his picture on file so he could just call down and they'd have a replacement waiting when he stopped by.

Unfortunately, for everything that eventually came off his list of Problems With Being A Grown-up, something else got added on. The year he turned twenty-five, the newest issue was weddings. First he endured Trowa's and Quatre's wedding, followed a few months later by Relena's and Wufei's. And then Noin and Zechs returned from Mars, and promptly held a huge wedding, even though they'd been married civilly on the way to Mars about eight years before.

Duo figured the whole second-wedding was to make sure they could cash in on the same toaster ovens and matching dishtowel sets he'd seen on the lists from the other couples. What Quatre needed with a toaster oven, Duo had no idea. One had sat on the kitchen countertop in Duo's own apartment for months—and never used—until one weekend he'd dismantled it to see how exactly it worked. He put it back together, and used the leftover parts to fix his motorcycle. The toaster never did work again, but the bike heated up quite nicely on cold mornings ever since.

Weddings weren't really a problem, and it wasn't like his friends had required tie-wearing, though he'd marked that down on the List of Bad Things—back at eighteen—and gotten over it. It was the fact that now they seemed to constantly be eyeballing his bachelorhood with a mercenary air, as if they were plotting to auction it off to the highest bidder. It made him nervous, and getting out of work soon felt like escaping to freedom. At least at the brownstone apartment he shared with Heero, he was safe from such ventures.

When he got home that overcast Tuesday, a few days after the most recent wedding—Sally and her fiancé, Robert, had taken their turn at the shindig—he wasn't surprised to find the phone ringing. Heero sat cross-legged on the sofa, glaring at the machine.

"Why isn't it picking up?" Duo hung up his coat and stood over the machine, peering at the flashing double-nines.

"Don't touch it." Heero shook his head. "I think we have to delete a few messages, though. Just don't take it apart to do that."

"Hunh?" Duo grimaced. "I wouldn't take it apart all the way. Just enough to—"

"Toaster oven," Heero snapped.

"Oh. Right." Duo fell silent as Relena's voice came over the line, calling out for one of them to pick up. Some old school friends were going to be in town, and wouldn't they like to... Duo wrinkled his nose. "At least let me figure out how to turn off the volume."

"I liked that toaster oven."

Duo leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. Relena continued talking. Duo's fingers stole towards the machine, and Heero growled.

"It was a gift from Relena."

"Fine, fine." Duo picked up the phone. "Hey, gorgeous! We just got in. Hold on, here's Heero." He tossed the phone to Heero—who plucked it out of the air, one-handed—and strolled from the room, whistling. He made a point of ignoring Heero's glare; he'd had enough years experience doing that, too.

In his room at the front of the apartment, Duo collapsed onto the bed for a moment before toeing off his boots. Wearily he undid his tie, sliding it from around his neck only to drop it on the bed beside him. The fact was that he'd gotten used to ignoring a lot of things from Heero, including the appreciative glances. But even those hadn't been such a bother, once he got used to them.

It was just the way things were. Even with two incomes, they could barely afford the apartment in the city, but they both liked being close enough to walk to work if they wanted. They went out less and less as they gained promotions, but it was still nice to be in the heart of things. Sharing an apartment was a good investment, and they'd done the paperwork right from the top so if one of them wanted to move on, the other could buy the first out. Or they'd sublet, if they both moved and didn't sell. It'd been a big thing—and all that paperwork had gone on the List of Bad Things—but it was far less bad, doing it with a good friend, than it would've been had Duo tried it on his own.

That was, until Duo took one message too many from some guy named Alan, and finally asked Heero straight up who the guy was. He'd not meant anything in particular; he'd just been curious why Heero always went to hang out at Alan's instead of bringing him back to their place. And then Heero had dropped the unexpected on him. Heero was gay.

Duo had taken a deep breath, processed the information, decided it had nothing to do with him, and life had gone back to normal. That was, until Hilde dumped him for refusing to transfer to L2. She was tired of the long-distance relationship, but Duo didn't want to take a fifty-percent cut in pay and a demotion to transfer off-planet. At the same time, Heero dumped Alan, muttering something about not wanting to move to the suburbs, but since Duo had never met the guy, he wasn't sure of the real issue, and wasn't positive he wanted to ask. That's when it got complicated.

Heero had started looking at Duo. Nothing overt, just quick glances, and they did seem to be spending more time together, which at first Duo had chalked up to the fact that they were both free, and more than a bit heart-broken, it seemed.

Finally one afternoon—about two years before, perhaps—Duo had set his drink down on the counter, while Heero cooked, and asked.

"Heero," he'd said, startled at how loud his voice seemed in the open kitchen, in the center of their apartment, "do you have a crush on me?"

The only answer was a sudden clatter of wooden spoon on a metal pot, and Heero's shoulders stiffening. Then, slowly, cautiously, Heero nodded, but only once.

"Oh." Duo sipped his drink, and tried to figure out what to say next.

"Does it bother you?" Heero's voice, remarkably, sounded steady.

"I guess not. I mean... " Duo sighed, and shrugged. "No. Not really. It's, uh, actually kind of complimentary. If you know what I mean."

Heero chuckled, a soft, almost plaintive sound. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. But after... " He shook his head.

Duo had learned enough over the years to fill in the spaces, or at least to be willing to offer his interpretation of the silence. Heero's shoulders always relaxed, just a touch, when Duo would finally stumble over the right words. So Duo settled down onto the stool by the counter, and began trying to figure out his friend's point of view.

"After what's-his-face," Duo began, "you're not willing to meet new people?"

Silence, but for the sizzling of vegetables in the pan.

"Um... don't want to get your heart broken by a stranger?"

Heero's grip on the spoon relaxed a fraction, and the line between his brows appeared, then disappeared. He opened his mouth, scowled, and closed his mouth. Still no words, obviously.

"I'm... safe?" Duo rolled that thought around in his head, even as Heero nodded, sighing.

Duo wasn't sure if he wanted to be safe, but it did make sense. He'd started tentatively flirting with Lola up in Purchasing, even though she was happily married with two kids. Their photographs, toothy grins and big eyes, confronted Duo every time he swung by Lola's office. It was just that after Hilde's abrupt ultimatum—and after a bit of licking his wounds—he still wasn't ready to brave the waters. He just wanted reassurance that he wasn't ugly or boring after four years with the same woman, however long-distance that might've been.

So maybe that was all Heero wanted: someone to appreciate, someone to maybe have a few daydreams about, but someone that wouldn't up and stomp on his heart like a plastic toy trampling downtown Sanq in a grade-B movie. Duo spent a few days considering that, mulling over the idea of his apartment-mate ogling his body, maybe fantasizing about him while in the shower, and decided that it really wasn't an issue. What was he going to do, get indignant about the fact that he wasn't getting any fun out of being an object of someone's fantasy?

And really, it was flattering. With casual glances and the return of their usual banter, he'd let Heero know it was okay. Maybe he needed the flattery as much as Heero needed the safety. Neither of them was in the best shape, after all, and they could probably use a bit of blowing off steam. Duo flirted with Lola up in Purchasing, and Heero flirted with an illusion of Duo in his own mind.

For a year or so, that's where it'd stood, until suddenly everyone around them started getting married. Then Duo and Heero became everyone's newest pet project, and Duo could feel the walls closing in: let's get the last two bachelors married. Duo just wasn't sure he was quite ready for another long-term relationship; he'd become more than happy with dating here and there. If it didn't work out, no problem. He'd just head home, where Heero would be sitting up with yet another complex coding puzzle, and as long as Duo came through the door with a new movie and a six-pack of beer, Heero would put away the laptop and join him.

Life was still safe.

Duo stretched, and sat up from the bed, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. The phone calls were picking up, and he had the strangest gut feeling something was about to change. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it bothered him. Tossing his work shirt onto the dry cleaning pile—a chore that registered number seventeen in the List of Bad Things—he dug around in his dresser for a beat-up sweat shirt. Maybe he'd do some fiddling on his bike before he had to start dinner; he was sure Heero would be up for dismantling the distributor cap.

But when he wandered back into the living room, Heero was gone. A note lay on the kitchen countertop—'going out for dinner, be back late', in Heero's angular handwriting. Duo raised his eyebrows at that, then figured Relena had talked Heero into meeting someone. He tossed the note in the trash, pulled a beer from the fridge, and was about to head down to the building's basement parking garage when he saw the answering machine. Its lights still flashed, and his fingers itched.

Well, it couldn't hurt to at least look at the infernal machine for a few minutes...

 

 

 

Heero came home to find Duo asleep on the sofa, three empty beers on the coffee table, and the remains of the answering machine scattered across the low table's metal surface. He shook his head in disgust, and thumped Duo on the bottom of one socked foot.

"Asshole. You broke our answering machine." Heero glared when Duo rolled over onto his back, squinting at Heero. "The machine. What did you do to it?"

"Not sure yet," Duo drawled. He snagged the blanket off the back of the sofa and rolled over again, pulling the blanket over his head. "Figure it out tomorrow," came the muffled words.

"You're paying for a new one if it doesn't work," Heero warned, but the only response was Duo's hand snaking up from under the blanket to flip him off. Heero snorted, and turned off the lights before heading to his room at the back of the apartment.

Closing the door behind him, he hit the switch for the lamp by his bed. Slipping off his shoes, he pulled his shirt over his head, sniffing it suspiciously before deciding it could make it through one more wearing. He disliked going down to the basement to do laundry. It was such a tedious job; besides, he couldn't get a connection to the 'net all the way down in the building's belly.

Heero padded across his room to settle down on his bed, lying sideways across it, with his hands tucked behind his head. Relena had coaxed him out with the usual arguments about trying to get out, getting over Alan—prove you're over him, she'd challenged—and Heero had finally given in. He'd never had much strength against her obstinacy, but the problem was that now everyone seemed to be wise to that. If they wanted Heero to do something, they just asked Relena to demand it. He snorted and rolled over on his side, grabbing the nearest pillow and curling up on top of the covers, half-dressed.

Technically it was a blind date, if a seemingly last-minute one, though he doubted Relena or Wufei could do last-minute. Well, Wufei, perhaps, but only with a great deal of planning to allow for that last-minute change. What had startled Heero the most was how well his friends must know him, to have picked someone so... he couldn't think of a word.

He frowned, trying to settle the quivery feeling in his stomach, but after a minute let the feelings ride through him and subside on their own. Thomas was a bit taller than Heero, though not quite as tall as Duo; muscular, intelligent, a med student. He knew Wufei and Relena through Sally. Hair almost as blond as Relena's, but with a coppery tint, loose curls pulled back in a ponytail. Warm, brown eyes—Heero made a point of noting people's eye colors, and he liked Thomas'. He'd also been surprised at how much it helped to have Wufei and Relena there; they knew what to say, when, to keep the conversation going, and it was their fault—or credit—that he now knew so much about Thomas, or that he'd spoken as much as he had around someone unfamiliar to him.

Heero smiled to himself. Thomas had suggested the orchestra on Friday night, and Heero suspected Relena had mentioned that was a favorite indulgence. Thomas had touched him lightly on the elbow when he'd asked, as Heero put on his coat, and Heero had found himself staring at the man's lips. Damn, had it been a year since he'd dated? Was he out of practice? He didn't have a lot of experience, but enough to know when to get nervous.

He rolled over and sat up long enough to turn off his bedside lamp, and fell back across the bed, stomach flip-flopping too much to bother getting undressed. He'd get up in a minute and do that, along with brushing his teeth and getting a drink of water before bed. It took a few more minutes of going over the evening's conversations in his head, before he got up and shuffled out of his room and into the main living area. Duo was a dark shape on the sofa, and Heero paused, listening to Duo's easy breathing. Seven years before, Heero just clicking on a light in his own room would have Duo wide awake, knife in hand, at the other end of the apartment—and Heero would wake up with one hand seeking his gun if Duo just rolled over in bed in his own room.

How much they'd grown, and settled down, and grown up. It pleased Heero, to be able to recite the things he did on a daily basis that meant he'd become an adult. He did his own bills, knew how to balance a check book, paid for his subway pass each month, and just a few months before had finally done all the research and created a retirement fund for himself. Picking out dishes with his annual bonus check had been nerve-wracking, but fun, despite Duo trailing along behind him and muttering dire threats about growing up.

But now he had one more thing on his list of adult responsibilities, and Heero hesitated, not sure how he'd broach it to Duo. Finally, after brushing his teeth, washing his face, and getting a drink of water, he decided it could wait. He'd just met Thomas, after all; maybe he was jumping too fast. Duo would probably be pleased to hear he wasn't the source of Heero's fascination, any longer.

Heero sighed and set the empty glass in the sink. It was his turn to do dishes, so he could let it sit. He'd have to do them first thing after work, though, or Duo would swoop in and do them all, the same way he'd clean the bathroom if he thought it had been more than twenty-four hours since bleach had been introduced to the tiles. Heero smirked. Duo was a closet clean freak, except when it came to machinery parts.

Duo shifted on the sofa, rolling over to present his back to the room, and his braid slid out from under the blanket to thump against the floor. Heero paused again, staring at the coiled rope of hair, and for a moment he contemplated holding it, running his fingers across the patch of skin at the base of Duo's neck where the skin was paler because it never got sun, or the way Duo smelled like peppermint after a shower, and grease after a day working on his bike.

No, now he could put those ideas aside. He'd have to. Duo had been a gracious friend, willingly looking the other way while Heero entertained thoughts of what would never be. Duo's word: safe. He'd been right. Heero always knew Duo would be there, and he didn't have to be lonely in the apartment, licking his wounds after Alan's final cruel words. He couldn't have what he wanted, but for a while, he'd been able to pretend. Anything more than that, he couldn't have handled. But that was soon to be in the past, if Thomas' actions and words were any sign. Yes. Duo would be glad to hear of it, and glad to know he could go back to streaking from the bathroom to the bedroom on cold winter mornings when he'd forgotten to hang up clean towels.

Pleased, Heero made his way to bed, and did his best to dream of curly hair and brown eyes and the orchestra. In the morning, he was quite certain he'd not once lapsed into faint whispers of an L2 drawl, deep blue eyes, or high cheekbones smudged with grease.

 

 

 

Duo's first realization that something had changed was coming home on that Friday—movie and beer in hand—only to find Heero in the bathroom, shaving. A towel hung low around his hips, and Heero gave Duo a distracted nod before wiping off his face and heading back to his room.

"Yo," Duo called after him. "What's the occasion?"

"Orchestra." Heero appeared in the doorway with two shirts. "Blue or black."

"I dunno. Black." Duo shrugged and set the beer in the fridge. "Wufei slack out and Relena need a date?"

"No, uh... " Heero's voice faded, then came back as he reappeared, tugging the black shirt down and tucking it into a pair of dress slacks. "I have a date."

Duo nearly dropped the beer on the fridge's shelf, startled, but managed to keep a grip out of sheer reflex. "A... date?"

"He's a friend of Wufei's and Relena's." Heero sat down on the sofa, pulling on dark socks. "He's a pre-med student at the university."

"Does this friend have a name?" Duo busied himself rearranging the fridge's top shelf, to make more room for the beer.

"Thomas Jenkins."

"Ah, yes, the Jenkins, a fine upstanding Sanq family." Duo leaned against the countertop, grinning as Heero looked up with a surprised expression. "Joke," Duo drawled, rolling his eyes. His grin only grew wider when Heero stood up, brushing off his slacks and straightening his shirt for the third time. "So what else about this guy?"

"He used to compete as a cyclist," Heero yelled from his bedroom. He brought out his shoes, inspecting them carefully.

"I can see my reflection in those shoes from here," Duo told him. "You don't need to polish them."

Heero frowned, rubbing at the toe of one shoe.

"Christ on a popsicle stick," Duo burst out, somewhere between amused and chagrined. "What's going on? You're as nervous—"

"Am not."

"I just saw you lick your thumb and polish your shoe with spit. I'd say that's nervous."

"There was a bit of dirt."

"Dude, I don't know how it works with guys, but with girls if it's going well, the last thing they care about are your shoes." Duo broke off at the sight of Heero's cheeks turning pink, and he gaped for a second before deciding withdrawal might be the better part of discretion. "Well, I'm gonna go change and order a pizza so it's here when I get out of the shower. You... have a good time tonight."

"Thanks." Heero ducked his head, looking away, another odd mannerism Duo hadn't seen Heero do in a year or more. After a minute they both seemed to nod, some unspoken accord reached, and Heero moved out of the way to let Duo past.

It was only after Heero had left, and Duo had ordered dinner, taken a shower, and settled down on the sofa to watch his movie—only then did it really sink in. Duo stared down at his third slice of pizza, and set it back in the box. Gathering everything up, he didn't bother to pause the movie while he puttered in the kitchen, putting the box in the fridge and leaving a note for Heero in case he got home hungry.

For another ten minutes, Duo was buoyed by a strange hope that Heero had ended up having a boring, horrible time with this mysterious med-student, this Thomas Jenkins. Perhaps Heero would come strolling in around ten-thirty, since the orchestra always ended around ten. That would be the time Heero would get in if he'd been out with Relena for the evening.

But ten-thirty came and went, and Duo sipped his beer, watching the movie with only half his attention. No footsteps on the stairs, and no key in the lock. The movie ended, and he switched over to news, flipping the channels idly. He'd finished his beer and it was eleven-thirty, but he stayed put for another half-hour. Midnight. Sighing, he got up from the sofa, put everything away, and checked the clock.

Fifteen after twelve. Of course, there were dishes in the sink, and that couldn't be left overnight. He was wiping his hands on the dishtowel when the clock on the microwave read twelve-thirty. Duo stared at it, then shook himself. Heero was out, on a date, and here he was waiting up for Heero like he was fifteen. Hell, at fifteen they'd been out all night blowing up government bases. Heero was an adult, and a lethal one at that, even if his days were spent attacking server viruses instead of perps.

Duo clicked off the light, but left on the light over the kitchen sink. Wandering through the empty apartment, he took another fifteen minutes to spontaneously clean the bathroom—after all, Heero and showered, and then Duo, and it hadn't been cleaned since—but still no sign of Heero. Almost one in the morning.

He slipped into bed, picking up a book he'd borrowed from Trowa on combustion engines, and tried to get comfortable. But tree branches scraping against the front of the building made him think of footsteps, and for each sound he'd sit up, glancing towards his open door where he could see the broad stretch of their living room, and then to Heero's door. Nothing.

It was starting to get aggravating, Duo groused, and sank down further in the bed, propping the book up across his knees. There was no reason he should be irritated that Heero was out with someone. This was supposed to be a moment of pride, as a friend—no matter what gender Heero liked—because it meant Heero had finally gotten over that jerk, whatever his name had been.

Okay, so he was glad for his friend. It was good for Heero to be dating again, but Duo hoped nothing else had changed. They'd still have nights of watching movies and ridiculing the unrealistic explosions and bad gun handling, and they'd still meet up for lunch and complain about corporate meetings at Preventers.

And they'd still trade off on chores, except when Heero thought cleaning could wait for another three hours while Duo knew it couldn't. It was just that now Heero might not be there on some nights, but that was okay. As long as it wasn't too often, Duo figured he could live with that. He'd put up a really boring night, once or twice a week, if it were for something that made Heero happy.

After all, what were friends for?


	2. Chapter 2

Heero got home at nearly three in the morning to find the kitchen light on, and the bathroom sparkling. He snorted at Duo's obsession, but made a point to wipe the splattered toothpaste off the sink, just to prevent any grumbling in the morning. His mind was mostly full of the conversation—and the long pauses—after the orchestra. They'd gone to dinner, wandered the streets of Sanq, then ended up at a coffee shop Thomas frequented near the hospital.

They'd stood on the front steps of Heero's building, until Thomas abruptly kissed Heero, while Heero was halfway through a word. He couldn't recall, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, what he'd been saying, but he did recall thinking that Thomas was a good kisser. Soft lips, not too soft, slightly chapped, and he tasted of coffee and sugar.

He ran a hand through his hair, frowning slightly when it fell back into its shaggy cut with no sign of the effort he'd put into combing it before he'd left. Hopeless, Duo would say, but perhaps Thomas was proof that the broody, somewhat short, and overly intense—if rumpled—look was still in. Or at least not entirely out. He wasn't quite as cut or muscular as he'd been at fifteen, but he'd at least reached five-seven, and he could still leg-press four times his weight, and he'd bent steel a few times when forcing servers into the racks. All in all, Heero didn't think he was entirely unattractive, even if he didn't light up a room like Duo. And Thomas had seemed to like him...

That kiss. Heero ran a finger across his bottom lip, reliving the taste and sensation before deciding it had been sweet and gentle. Not what he'd expected, but then, he'd only had his own hand and his imagination for the past year, so he could hardly grade one kiss from a new friend against a year of imagining what Duo's forceful personality would be like in bed. He'd always imagined it'd be like kissing a hurricane, or a tsunami; he drowned in Duo's charisma on a daily basis, so he'd imagined sex with Duo would naturally have to be just as overwhelming.

And, he reminded himself, it was time to stop imagining such things.

He shut off the bathroom light, pausing outside Duo's bedroom to wonder why the door was open. Cautiously Heero reached in, catching the doorknob and pulling the door shut on silent hinges. He listened for a bit longer to Duo's even breathing, and rubbed at his chest in an absent-minded manner. Something at dinner hadn't seemed to agree with him, or maybe mild heartburn was another sign of growing up. He put it on his mental list of things to be pleased about, along with a note to pick up something at the grocery store to fix it, if he ended up eating such rich food on a regular basis with Thomas.

A few minutes later he was crawling into bed, and shut off the light, only to lay in the dark and stare at the ceiling. He wasn't sure if there was something there with Thomas, that something that made people want to be with a person for a long time, but it was still a step in the right direction. He couldn't spend the rest of his life fantasizing about a friend, after all.

Heero rolled over in bed and stared at his closed door. In the morning, he'd let Duo know, somehow, that he was over his crush. Somehow he'd find a way to thank his friend for being so understanding and supportive. Heero smiled to himself. Maybe Thomas had a sister; she'd naturally like Duo—everyone did, really—and then they could all do things together.

Likely story. Heero snorted at his own stupid wishes; unless the girl came with wheels on the bottom of her feet, Duo probably wouldn't look at her twice. No, Heero would have to work a little harder on finding someone that Duo would like. Maybe he'd ask Relena or Quatre. They always seemed to know so many people.

He fell asleep, fingers pressed to his lips, though he wasn't sure whether that was to hold in the memory of Thomas's kisses, or to keep out the impossible fantasy he was trying to leave behind.

 

 

Two weeks passed, then three. Duo's temper grew shorter, until one afternoon he spent ten minutes yelling at Heero about not cleaning up the bathroom. Heero scowled and apologized, but Duo had already cleaned and there was no point in Heero rushing to do the chore. And then Duo found dishes in the sink, but already Heero was out the door, coat in hand.

Duo stared down at the sink, and the single coffee cup—his, he recalled—and wondered why he was so on edge. He'd tried to enjoy having the place to himself, like when Heero had been dating Alan. He could play his own music, watch the stupid comedies that Heero hated, without having to reciprocate by putting up with Heero's indie films. He could eat dinner on the sofa with his work spread out on the table in front of him, and he even dismantled the new answering machine—and purchased a second replacement—without a word of complaint from Heero.

What the hell was Heero going to complain about, anyway? He was barely around. Apparently med students had such crazy schedules that there was no telling when Heero would answer the phone and be out the door a minute later. If Thomas had fifteen minutes for a break at the hospital, he'd call, and Heero would be on his way. It made planning anything absolutely impossible, but Duo had done his best to shrug and promise to note where he'd halted the movie so Heero could watch the rest later. He tried to ignore the fact that Heero didn't seem to be doing so, however; the movies were always returned with a shrug from Heero—no time, maybe he'd rent it later.

But the worst of it, Duo realized, as he slowly rinsed the cup and dried it, putting it away, was that he felt... no, he couldn't quite figure it out. Heero was friendly, of course, and they still talked about everything, but Heero seemed distant. Preoccupied. Duo had sat in the living room wearing only boxers, folding his clean clothes, and Heero had barely looked at him.

It was almost insulting, in a way Duo couldn't quite fathom and wasn't sure he wanted to consider. Lola still flirted with him, and he'd dated a few girls over the past year—nothing serious, but fun—and those girls were all cute. He hadn't entirely lost his touch, even if his body wasn't as slim, or his sixpack stomach quite as defined. But he'd gotten used to the glances, the smiles, the sudden flush on Heero's face if Duo caught him looking. Duo snorted at himself, and picked up the phone. Maybe Quatre was free to grab a cup of coffee or something.

An hour later, Duo was ensconced at a pastry shop halfway between his apartment and Quatre's home. Trowa had an evening meeting—common enough with the time difference to the colonies—so it was just the two of them. Duo had Quatre's favorite drink ready and waiting, along with a slice of pie.

"Perfect," Quatre said, sliding into the seat opposite Duo with a wide grin. Soft blond curls fell across his forehead, giving him a disheveled look that reminded Duo of the days they'd spent in Corsica during the war. Considerably taller now, with a square jaw and stern blue eyes, Quatre's smile always made him look younger, and relieved the lines of tension around his mouth — and a slice of pie always caused one of those smiles. "Fork?"

"Costs extra," Duo replied, but relinquished the fork gracefully. He watched Quatre dig into the pie with gusto. "What, is Trowa starving you or something?"

"Sort of. He's saying we have to go on a diet."

"No shit."

"I'm not kidding." Quatre sighed and took another bite of pie, his expression almost rapturous. "Sitting through those lunch meetings watching everyone else eat as much as they want... it's torture."

Duo leaned over the table to glance at Quatre's midsection. "You look okay to me."

"Didn't know you were checking me out." Quatre's blue eyes gleamed, but then his gaze dropped to the coffee and he sipped it as casually as if he hadn't just said something that left Duo's mouth hanging open. Finally, Quatre set down the coffee with an air of a man ready to get down to business. "So what's up?"

"Nothing. You?"

"You're the one who called this meeting."

Duo snorted and leaned back in the booth, stretching out his legs. "It's not a meeting, it's just two friends hanging out. You go corporate on me, and I'm taking back the rest of that pie."

"Try it and you lose a finger." Quatre set down the fork, and wiped up the last of the sugary jam with one finger. "So where's Heero?"

"Out on a date."

"With Thomas, hunh." Quatre nodded approvingly. "Sounds like it's starting to get serious."

"Hell, I hope not." Duo blinked, realizing he'd muttered that loud enough for Quatre to hear. He glanced away from Quatre's suddenly bright eyes, and shrugged. "Don't mind me. Just adjusting, I guess."

"What adjustment is required? It's not like he's... " His voice trailed off, and he waved a hand at the waitress. "Another slice, please."

"Crap, Quatre, if you go home weighing ten pounds more, I don't want Trowa coming to kick my ass."

"He won't. He'll probably kick mine first." Quatre grinned, a bit impishly. "So if I'm going to be convicted, might as well make the crime worthwhile."

Duo grinned, knowing the phrase as a compliment to his corrupting influence. "So how's Trowa, anyway?"

"Don't change the subject. You're bored and lonely because Heero's gotten a life."

"I... what?" Duo rolled his eyes. "Naw. I've got a date with Elizabeth on Saturday."

"And Heero's got a date with Thomas on a Wednesday night."

"It's not a competition."

"What is it, then?" Quatre accepted the second slice of pie, giving the waitress a blinding smile. She goggled, and backed away with a nervous laugh. "You're not worried about Heero, are you? He's a grown man."

"Who still hasn't introduced me to the guy he's dating."

Quatre shrugged, brows furrowed as he licked the fork clean before taking a second bite of pie. "Perhaps he's worried you won't like Thomas."

"He tells me about him all the time. Thomas this, Thomas that, Thomas bloody fucking Jenkins and what he did at work and grocery shopping and his damn shoe size."

Quatre blinked. "Heero knows Thomas's shoe size?"

"And his mother's maiden name, too, I bet." Duo scratched the end of his nose, and frowned. "I don't know. Probably. I don't pay much attention to it, now."

"Why not?"

Duo shrugged.

"Maybe you don't want to hear it."

"Of course I want to hear it. He's my friend. I don't want him dating another prick." Duo caught Quatre's arched eyebrow, and headed off the incoming innuendo. "Jerk." He groaned as Quatre's smile got a bit more pointed. "Assho—crap, Quatre, turn off that dirty mind. Look, I don't want him with someone who'll be... y'know, unkind or something. But... there's got to be some topic of conversation other than Thomas, Thomas, Thomas."

"Like what... " Quatre glanced up at the ceiling, as if seeking inspiration from on high. "Oh, like you'd rather it be Duo, Duo, Duo?"

"Hunh? No, wait, I didn't say—"

"I think you do."

"Do what?" Duo's lip curled into a snarl, and he calmed with a bit of effort. "Don't do that armchair psychology on me."

"I don't need to do anything other than look at your face."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes."

Duo narrowed his eyes. "And what's it saying right now?"

"Hm." Quatre took another bite of pie, then set down the fork and shoved the plate across to Duo. "It's saying you're jealous as hell."

"Like that's news. Yeah, who wouldn't want to be seeing someone regularly." Duo's tone turned distinctly sarcastic, and he didn't care. "Especially someone as cool as Thomas the med student, the former competition cyclist, the brown-eyed—"

"No."

Duo halted, but his mouth closed slowly, suspicious.

"You're jealous because Heero's with someone else and not you."

It took a second for Duo's brain to catch up and present a reasonable explanation. "Yeah, so we got into a habit. We hung out a lot—"

"And I think you're a bit jealous that Heero's not paying attention to you anymore."

"And we would—say what?" Duo knew his ears were getting hot, and cursed his fair skin for showing a blush. He was not blushing. No.

"I'm not stupid, Duo. Don't treat me like I am." Quatre wiped his mouth with the napkin, and folded it before setting it aside. "For two years we've all watched Heero pay attention to you at every second, and the way he looks at you. Everyone knew he has—had—a crush on you. And we also weren't ignorant of the way you ate up the attention."

"So? We had an understanding, y'know, after that whole thing with—"

"Duo, are you aware of the fact that most heterosexual men would be freaked to no end to find out that their friend—and apartment-mate, I might add—uses them as fantasy material on a daily basis?"

"Plenty of straight guys have gay friends. Like—" Duo struggled to come up with a comparison. "Wufei. He's never shown any sign he's bothered by being friends with you an' Trowa."

"I don't recall ever asking Wufei if he minds me thinking about him while I jerk off in the shower, either," Quatre snapped.

"It wasn't like that! Okay, so maybe it's not the same—"

Quatre snorted. "You think?"

"Uh, maybe." Duo struggled for a second to find a response to that. "So I'm more open-minded than most." He wondered why he didn't feel a bit more smug about it.

"You're... something, all right." Quatre stood up, checking his watch. "I think I'm going to cut this evening short."

"Hunh? What for?"

"Because you need to take advantage of the quiet to figure out whether you want Heero as a friend, or whether you want to keep sulking because you're not the center of his life any more. And if you want to be the center of his life, you've got to figure out whether you're willing to give him everything you've got."

"Everything I've—"

"Shut up and listen, Duo." Quatre leaned over the table, his eyes almost flashing. Duo leaned back, feeling a bit more uneasy than he had in years around his good friend. "Because it's not fair to him to dangle yourself as the untouchable dream, but it's also not fair to jump down his throat every ten minutes because he's no longer fixated on that dream."

"I haven't—"

"I didn't say you could speak yet. I hear the two of you have argued more often than not, in the past three weeks. Heero's talking about moving out."

Duo shot to his feet. "He's what? When did he tell you that? What the—" His hands fisted hard enough to make two knuckles crack. "When I see him, I'm gonna—"

"Tell him what you really want," Quatre finished. He pointed past Duo, at the door. "Go home, but don't speak to Heero until you know what you want and you're willing to stick to it."

"I know what I want," Duo retorted, still angry that Heero had spoken of breaking up their partnership and not even told him first. What the hell? Why wouldn't Heero say anything? They were friends. They talked about everything. "I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"If you're just friends," Quatre said, placing a hand on Duo's shoulder, "you'll never again get his undivided attention for more than every now and then. Are you willing to come second?"

"No! I'm his best friend. He's mine," Duo choked out, without even thinking. He frowned and shook his head. "That didn't come out right, I mean, all you guys are—"

"I think it came out just fine," Quatre corrected him. "But if you want to be first, you need to think about what that means." He turned Duo towards the door, and shoved none-too-gently. "Get out of here."

Duo could only nod, dumbfounded, and within a few minutes found himself walking the empty streets. He tucked his hands into his pockets to keep from punching a wall as he walked, frustrated and irritated.

What was wrong with Quatre? Why did he have to make such a production out of everything? It wasn't anything that important. It was just that Heero always used to be around, and now he wasn't, and Duo missed him. He missed the way Heero would leave dishes in the sink and insist they wouldn't swarm with germs, sometimes physically holding Duo away from the kitchen; they'd wrestle until Duo broke free and pelted Heero with the kitchen sponges. He missed long debates about fixing the household appliances, or a day at a swap meet to get computer parts for Heero or spare parts for Duo's most recent mechanical victim. He missed hearing Heero complain about finding yard-long hairs in everything: the laundry, the kitchen sink, or across the laptop keyboard, claiming it was proof that Duo had been using his laptop while Heero was out. He missed dinner and after-work complaint sessions. He missed...

Damn it, he just liked having his best friend around. Right?

He made it back to the apartment in one piece, knuckles still intact, to find Heero drinking his nightly glass of water. Duo nodded, hanging up his coat, mind still churning over Quatre's words. Coming first in Heero's life meant... a lot of things. Sex. Okay. That was probably a big part of it. Everyone needs that outlet, Duo reminded himself. But it also meant... other things, things far scarier than sex. Duo realized Heero was staring, the glass lifted halfway to his mouth, and he found himself studying Heero's slightly open mouth, the tip of Heero's tongue just visible. He shook himself with a bit of effort, and focused on Heero's words.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," Duo replied, a bit gruffly. "Just... got a lot of things on my mind." He shrugged, and reached into the fridge to grab a soda. "So how's Thomas?"

"Fine." For once, Heero didn't elaborate, and Duo relaxed a little. "There's a swap meet this weekend. Are we still going?"

"The—" Duo hesitated, and stared down at the soda in his hand, unopened. "I, uh, figured you'd want to leave the time open in case, y'know... " He laughed, trying to brush it off. "It's cool."

"It's been marked on the calendar for four months." Heero frowned, sipping his water before pouring the rest out and putting the glass in the sink. "Why would you think I'd cancel?"

"Cause you've got more important things in your life, now," Duo replied, speaking on auto-pilot. He wondered why his stomach twisted into knots, suddenly.

"Oh." Heero seemed to consider that for a long second, then nodded, again with that preoccupied look. He glanced over Duo, gaze resting for a few heartbeats, and Duo felt it almost as a physical thing, until the moment broke when Heero backed up a step. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay. G'nite." Duo stared down at the soda and put it back in the fridge, unopened. He listened to Heero's light step across the apartment floors. Heero's door closed; only then did Duo reach into the sink and pick up the glass. Lifting it gently, he placed the rim against his lips, and wondered what it would be like to kiss his best friend.

A second or two passed, and he set the glass back down, feeling like an idiot. What was the point? Heero was seeing someone, and Duo was too—if informally—and maybe he just needed to get over it. He sighed, and went to bed.

The next few days, work took all his attention, until he ran into Heero in the hallway. They nodded in passing, then Duo paused long enough to glance behind him at Heero's retreating form. It was common to see Heero striding past with his head down over reports and proposals, but Duo had never before considered the way Heero's slacks hung off his slim hips, just tight enough to show that Heero hadn't lost a bit of that round ass. Duo's fingers gripped the paperwork in his hands, as he found himself simultaneously imagining what it'd be like to run his hands across that smooth, muscular ass—and reminding himself to stop.

Heero halted down the hallway, waiting when someone called his name, and Duo pretended to jot something down on the paper in his hand while he watched out of the corner of his eye. Heero had never lost that brusqueness, that slight frown when interrupted, but Duo knew it to be just Heero's form of intense concentration, where any distraction was an impediment but not necessarily a source of true annoyance. Heero's shoulders were broad under the neatly pressed shirt, sleeves rolled up to above his elbows, arms powerful, still a bit tanned from the previous summer. He spoke for several minutes with the two Preventers before heading on his way, and Duo stared down at the scribbles on the edge of his paperwork.

It was a drawing of someone from behind, bare-ass naked, and the slender hips leading into strong thighs left no doubt he'd just drawn a man. Duo flushed, swore under his breath, and ripped off the top sheet, shoving it into the nearest paper shredder. He'd just have to get Cindy to print him another copy, and pretend he'd spilled coffee on this one. And then maybe he'd stick his head in the shredder, too.

By Saturday, he figured he'd managed, given that Heero didn't seem so distant, and he'd even cheerfully waved Heero off to see Thomas. Come Saturday morning, they'd be up early, heading to the swap meet. It'd be like old times, and Duo picked out a sweatshirt and jeans with a light heart, doing his best to ignore the sudden ache from the phrase 'old times'. No, that was wrong. Their friendship wasn't in the past. It was very much present, and he held that thought in his gut through breakfast, then as they caught the bus to the subway, and then the subway to the hotel at the edge of the city.

When they got off the subway, Heero broke off from his explanation about the newest server administrator's incompetence, and looked across the subway platform with a startling smile that caught Duo completely off-guard. For a moment Duo started to smile as well, until he followed Heero's line of sight to where a man stood by the platform sign, with an equally wide smile. Duo frowned, and nudged Heero.

"The swap's that way."

Heero murmured something, and waved to the man, who strolled to meet them. Duo tensed, uncertain, until Heero put out his hand, and beckoned the man closer.

"Duo, this is Thomas." Heero paused, his cheeks pinking a little, and he stepped closer, just a few inches, to the man. "Thomas, this is Duo."

"Hi." Thomas grinned, shyly, and ducked his head. "Should we shake or something? I'm not used to such formality."

"Uh." Duo blinked a few times, his brain rushing to catch up, even as he registered a sudden strong flash of anger.

This wasn't supposed to be something they shared with other people. This was just he and Heero, geeking out over old mechanical parts, digging through boxes to see if they could find anything from wartime mecha. They'd never bought anything, but they liked to handle it and debate making new things from the old technology and what the hell was Thomas doing here? But just as quickly he registered the worried look on Heero's face, and Duo sighed, holding out a hand.

"Sorry, surprised me, is all. I've only had two cups of coffee so far." Duo glanced at Heero, and realized Heero was now too far away to elbow in pretend-irritation at the lack of warning. Duo squashed the action, at the same time Thomas's hand met his—a strong grip, firm, fingers a little callused, just a bit damp but that could be from nerves. It made Duo feel a little better. He grinned, lazy, shrugging his shoulders. "Someone insisted we be up and out before the sun."

"It's ten in the morning, idiot." Heero snorted, then smiled at Thomas as if to say, old joke.

Duo wanted to scowl: don't include him in our jokes, but he realized Thomas was watching him, nervously, and Heero's shoulders were hunched. He wasn't going to be a jerk and ruin this. He couldn't do that to Heero. So he laughed, and waved towards the subway exit. "Let's get out of the traffic, and grab some more caffeine on the way."

The two other men fell in line, making light conversation—mostly Heero explaining the kinds of equipment sold at swap meets, and opening the bag over his shoulder to reveal the two destroyed answering machines while Duo rolled his eyes and Thomas chuckled. At the hotel, Heero offered to get the registration while Duo got coffee for them; Duo watched the two men walk off, shoulder-to-shoulder, and took a deep breath. Thomas seemed like a nice guy, intelligent, friendly, with a great sense of humor. But his hair was only shoulder-length, Duo amended, knowing it was petty to compare his hip-length braid with Thomas' but not really caring.

So he was startled when Thomas slipped into line beside him with an abashed grin.

"What? You're out of registration already?" Duo glanced behind Thomas.

"No. I realized I might need coffee to keep up with the two of you," Thomas replied. "Heero's still in line. I'm going to get us something and rejoin him."

"I'll go with you." Duo nodded, and fell silent.

Thomas cleared his throat, paused, then shuffled forward as the line moved, before he spoke again. "Uh... I've really been looking forward to meeting you. Heero talks about you all the time."

"I don't think conversations about sixteen ways to kill your apartment-mate counts," Duo said, brushing it off despite the sudden lurching feeling in his chest.

"Oh, no! He's always talking about stuff you do together, and how you—" Thomas broke off abruptly, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. "Nothing personal, I mean. Just about sharing the apartment, and work. I guess it's presumptuous, but I feel like I know you already even though I've just met you."

"Yeah, Heero talks a lot about you, too." Duo shrugged.

"He does?" Thomas grinned, a bit wider. "Wow. I mean, damn it, I should be cool, shouldn't I? I can't do cool," he mumbled. "I just feel mostly like an idiot right now, y'know, meeting the parents and all."

Duo nearly tripped over his own feet at that. "The what?" He couldn't help it if his voice sounded a bit strangled, he was sure.

"Just a figure of speech, y'know. You're like his family. And though I know Sally and I've met the Darlian-Changs, I'd never met you and you're definitely—" Thomas paused to give the clerk the order for himself and Heero.

Duo waited, and gave his own order, before Thomas picked back up again. Really, he had no idea what to say to Thomas. Yelling that Thomas was ruining his first all-day time with Heero in three weeks probably wouldn't be the right response, but he wasn't sure he liked being considered Heero's dad, either. That was a little freaky, really. Maybe a brother, but what kind of sibling let a brother have a crush on him—Duo gritted his teeth and put that out of his head.

They picked up their drinks; it didn't take much prompting from Duo to get Thomas talking about the hospital or his internship and the long hours. Frankly, it sounded almost as grueling as the war—twelve hour stretches of constant go-go-go, with few breaks and every single minute requiring absolute concentration. Granted, Thomas was trying to save lives, not blow them all to smithereens in a bombing mission, but it was still a sign of a dedicated individual. Duo couldn't see how such long hours were conducive to a relationship, though, but if Heero didn't mind, he couldn't exactly complain on Heero's behalf. Well, not too much.

 

 

Heero took a deep breath and settled the laptop case over his shoulder, turning towards home. He felt like he'd just run through sixteen training sessions in one hour, but worse, because the heavy ache wasn't in his muscles but in something a bit deeper. He liked Thomas. He really did, but he wasn't ready to move in with him, even if Thomas' arguments were persuasive. Alan's had been, too, but at least Thomas didn't sink to Alan's level once it was obvious Heero wasn't going to budge.

He wasn't entirely certain why he wouldn't want to move in with someone. It wasn't like he didn't know how to get along in a shared space. He'd lived with Duo for six years? Seven, maybe? Duo would recall; that was his job in the friendship, since Heero was bad with any date that wasn't directly ahead of him and requiring some kind of task assigned to it, and upon conclusion could be forgotten again until his assistant—or, at home, Duo—reminded him again.

No, Heero thought, weaving through the evening crowd, he'd just hit a limit. Even before Thomas had started pushing harder, Heero had been tiring of being at Thomas' beck-and-call. Thomas' schedule was insane, sometimes, and while Heero wanted to hang out with him, dropping everything when Thomas had more than twenty minutes free was just... he couldn't take it anymore. But Thomas had one more year of med school, and then at least four years of an internship, and the long hours would continue. Heero wanted to come home in the evening from work, and have someone waiting for him—not come home and wait around for someone else to have a few minutes to spare, before rushing off again.

At the apartment, Heero took another deep breath and tried not to think about how the phone wouldn't be ringing. At least Duo would be around; maybe he'd be free and they could catch a movie, like they used to. He opened the door to find Duo careening madly across the living room, sliding across the smooth floor on socked feet, braid trailing out behind him.

"Duo?" Heero stood in the open doorway, puzzled. "What are you—"

"I'm late!" Duo hollered, arms flailing before he got his balance and launched himself forward into his bedroom. Drawers slammed and banged, then he reappeared, hopping on one foot while he pulled on a boot. "Une's meeting ran way over and I didn't want to go out still in the monkey suit—have you seen my jacket?"

"This one?" Heero set his laptop on the kitchen counter and took Duo's beat-up Preventers jacket down from the peg. Duo made a face at it, then began putting on his other boot. Heero dug through the coats, and pulled out Duo's leather jacket. "This one?"

"Yeah!" Duo grinned, finished lacing up the boot, and took the jacket.

Despite the heavy boots, he somehow moved cat-silent across the room. Heero took a few seconds to enjoy it, and then pulled his gaze away, thinking of Thomas and Duo and the fact that now he had neither. But Duo was still talking.

"Appreciate it. Man, now I gotta find the bike keys." He rustled through the kitchen's junk drawer, muttering to himself before grinning over his shoulder. "How's your sleep-deprived med-boy?"

He's not mine anymore, Heero wanted to say, but all that came out was: "fine." He picked up his laptop, and headed into the living room, setting down the case before realizing Duo was watching him with a peculiar expression. Heero frowned.

"That doesn't sound too enthusiastic," Duo observed. "Something on your mind?"

"No." Heero shrugged. "Aren't you going to be late?"

"What the hell, might as well be late in style. Besides, those damn keys... ah, there's the fuckers." Duo slammed the drawer with one hip, tossing the keys into the air and catching them. "No, really. You seem kinda down."

"Long day." Heero waved Duo's question away, and settled down onto the sofa, pulling out his laptop. "I need to dial into the server to check on the cron-jobs, too."

"What a life of excitement you lead, old man!" Duo grinned, and shrugged into his jacket.

"So who is it this week?" Heero glanced over his shoulder at Duo, who was currently arguing silently with his braid as he tried to pull the length out to lie on top of his jacket, instead of getting caught underneath. "You still seeing that girl?"

"Uh... no. Someone else."

Was that Heero's imagination, or did Duo just turn beet-red? What was going on? Heero sat up, intrigued, but Duo grinned—although it looked a bit crooked—told him not to wait up, and was gone in a swirl of leather, braid, and black jeans.

Heero stared at the closed door for a few seconds, then sighed. Well, at least Duo's social life was back on track; he hadn't ever really doubted that it would be, though. Hilde might've done a number on Duo's heart, but Duo always bounced. Heero rubbed his chest and looked around at the empty apartment before figuring if Duo weren't around to talk—and he did want someone to tell—then maybe Relena was free.

As always, she was a good listener, but as always, she couldn't not get involved. Despite her promises to refrain from meddling, the next morning he discovered she—and Quatre—had gone ahead and decided to help him out. He stared at the list of emails in his personal inbox, and scowled. He was twenty-five and had had two boyfriends. That didn't make him such a social failure he had to be signed up for a dating service!

Heero glowered at the computer screen and picked up the phone. He didn't care if Relena was meeting with sixteen dignitaries and the reincarnation of Treize Kushrenada himself. Heero was going to give her a piece of his mind. He drummed his nails on the desk while he sat on hold as Relena's assistant attempted to track her down, and idly opened up one of the emails.

We have a match, the email crowed. Heero narrowed his eyes at the email, ready to hit delete, but halted when the assistant came back on the line, asking him if he were sure he wanted to hold a little longer. Heero listened with half his attention, his gaze held by the statistics scrolling down his screen in the email.

Age: twenty-five. Works in law enforcement. Planning on getting a Master's in Geo-political affairs. Six-foot even, slim build. Brown hair. Likes hiking. Never surfed but interested in learning.

It was mostly a list, and a few things jumped out that made Heero wonder why the computer system would match him with this person. He had no interest in dealing with water where he couldn't see the bottom; he'd had enough of crash-landing into the sea in the war for a lifetime. Nor was he sure whether an executive server administrator would have much to talk about with a cop, even if technically Preventers did count as a police force, if an international one. Maybe it was the fact that they were the same age. Heero snorted, and once again found himself hesitating to delete the email.

Oh, what the hell. He'd always believed in following his emotions, and failing any idea of what those emotions should be in the case of being set up, Heero figured he'd rely on Relena's and Quatre's choice. If it went badly, he could always blame them and perhaps get at least a week's peace from their intrusions into his private time. He hung up the phone without waiting for the assistant to get back on the line, and with a deep breath, hit reply on the email.

Carefully he typed in a short explanation about his surprise, and a request for more information on the next steps. Within a few minutes, the service had sent back a reply. He could email the person, box number 743644, directly. No names or personal information would be given by the service, other than an assurance that every participant had been vetted for truthfulness and a clean police record. Heero snorted that that; his own was only spotless because any average civilian didn't have clearance to access his record. But he could count on two hands the people who also had records like his, so he set that worry aside.

For a few minutes he contemplated the informational list from the service, then opened the service's online email, so he'd be mailing from the provided anonymous address. Fingers poised over the keyboard, he considered several different beginnings before starting with the simplest: honesty.

_ Hello. Several friends signed me up for this service, and while I normally wouldn't participate, I noticed on your information that... _   
  



	3. Chapter 3

Duo pulled his bike into the underground basement and turned off the ignition; he had to adjust his jeans before he could get up. He grinned to himself and locked the front wheel before throwing his jacket over his shoulder and climbing the stairs to his apartment.

He'd formed a new list in his head, a running guide that had started as tasks to be done but had become—somewhere along the way—a rather pleasurable pursuit. And he was meeting lots of people, completely disproving his original theory that meeting guys had to be damn hard for someone who wasn't born gorgeous like his apartment-mate.

So far, he'd kissed three guys. It had been strange at first, with his mind calculating the difference between a man versus a woman, and the five o'clock shadow was annoying, but otherwise it was just a kiss. Feeling someone's erection against his hip threw him for a loop the first time, but that guy was cool with Duo's sudden flinch, and they laughed about it later over coffee. He didn't really click with Mike on so many other levels, but he'd started making a habit of meeting up with Mike after work on Mondays at the gym, and Mike had proven to be a good ear for Duo's continued search. Mike called it an Exploration; Duo could hear the capital letters.

Yeah, well, now he'd explored down the front of someone's jeans. He'd fully expected to leap out of his skin and backpedal furiously—grabbing some other guy's dick was a bit unnerving—but after a bit he realized it was just another body part. The problem wasn't that he was jerking off another guy. The problem was that the guy had reeked of garlic, thanks to their dinner's pizza being laden with about three pounds. Duo tested his own breath. Yeah, he wasn't much better off.

This being-attracted-to-guys thing wasn't that hard; Duo snorted at the unintended pun. The problem was that as the weeks passed, he realized the danger in it. Maybe Heero had considered Duo safe, but Duo couldn't say the same for Heero any more.

Now, instead, he found himself skittish around Heero, trying to read Heero as if he were a new mathematical syntax, finding meanings where before he'd only seen the consistency of a friend. Where Heero looked when he paused in typing, the way he rubbed his head while half-asleep and waiting for the coffee to perk. How his fingers lingered across the edge of a plate when he set it down before Duo at dinner, the catch in his voice when he'd answer the phone or the lack of such hints upon answering other calls.

Everything was a puzzle, and Duo once again had to acknowledge that the physical was okay, but there was something else far scarier under it all. It was Heero. Now he had some basic experience to go on—though he imagined he'd probably moved far faster in his research than any self-respecting gay man would've wanted—but it was one thing to try something with a near-stranger, and another thing to consider doing it with Heero.

Duo slipped into the dark apartment, setting his stuff by the door and tip-toeing to his room. No light was on, so either Heero was out or he'd not thought to leave the light on by the door. Duo closed the bedroom door behind him, noted it was after midnight, and contemplated the madness of an eight a.m. meeting that would come far too soon. Undressing, he crawled under the covers and lay back to watch car headlights against his window.

It had taken almost an hour of Quatre grilling him—with Trowa silently watching, smirking—before Duo had finally admitted, reluctantly, what he'd begun. What he hadn't said was why.

Duo prided himself on being able to please his lovers. Hilde might've had major issues with his refusal to move off-planet, but she'd never complained about him in bed. And none of the women he'd dated since had ever sent him away without wanting second helpings. He didn't boast about it, and rarely considered such skills outside the bedroom, but it was a big part of how he saw himself with someone else.

And that meant that if he were to offer anything more than friendship to Heero, he wasn't going to make a fool of himself. Deeper than that, though, was the fear that if he couldn't go through with it, he'd hurt Heero far more than Heero'd be hurt if they just stayed friends and Heero never knew. It was one thing to recoil in sudden horror at being reminded his partner was a man, and that was a cock tight in someone else's jeans, being pressed up against his hip—but if he'd recoiled in horror like that from Heero... No. He couldn't do that to his friend.

Maybe Quatre understood that, in the way he seemed to have when it came any of the pilots. Maybe that was why when Trowa had shifted in his chair, opening his mouth to say something about Duo's personal agenda, that Quatre had quieted Trowa with a single warning glance. Quatre might not like it, but at least he understood that Duo wasn't acting out of a wish to play the field, like Trowa had probably been about to say. Duo didn't know that for certain, but that was the accusation he would've leveled at Trowa, so he figured that was what he had coming right back at him.

Of course, the most significant problem was that Heero was in a relationship. Duo was willing to bide his time, and keep an eye on his friend; if Heero ended up happy, then maybe it was just a sign that their timing was off, they'd gotten their wires crossed one too many times, and it just wasn't to be. Thomas had seemed like a cool guy, and maybe it was just Heero's way to never bring a guy back to their apartment, despite Duo's encouragement. At least Heero had calmed down on Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, only mentioning him every now and then when Duo bugged him to talk about how things were going.

Actually, Heero had been acting a bit down, but reviews were coming up in Heero's division, and that always put a lot of stress on Heero. He was great with the technical stuff, but the personal interaction of interviewing employees and grading them wore on him heavily. But Heero hadn't said much, so Duo figured Thomas might be the unlucky bastard bearing the brunt of Heero's distress about how to phrase things, how to express himself diplomatically but firmly.

Besides... Duo rolled over in bed, and cradled his pillow close. Besides, he'd struck up a friendship with someone, himself, and as much as it probably sounded a bit mercenary, if it didn't work out with Heero—that was, if Heero worked out with Thomas—Duo was rather intrigued with his e-penpal. The guy was witty, sharp, and talkative. They hadn't met yet; neither seemed willing to hurry the first meeting. The guy had made a few comments that made Duo suspect he was a fellow Preventer, which had caused Duo to spend a few eagle-eyed days wandering the corridors of headquarters staring at every man he saw who was anywhere from an inch to four inches shorter, but none seemed nearly as gregarious as his anonymous friend.

The front door opened and closed, and Duo realized Heero had been out, as well. He grinned into the darkness. Heero's footsteps were light, and quick, which meant he was in a good mood, not worn down from exhaustion. Thomas wasn't such a bad guy. Maybe Duo missed being the center of Heero's world, but it wasn't really like their friendship had ended; it had simply changed, if not precisely for the better in Duo's terms.

And if Thomas ever screwed up, Duo reasoned, Heero would turn around and find Duo waiting... at least for a little while longer. He wasn't an idiot; he wouldn't hang around forever on something hopeless, but he could invest a bit more time, to make sure of the lay of the land. Duo closed his eyes and thought of Heero in the shower, and drifted off to sleep, smiling to himself. There might still be hope, after all; Heero had yet to get a place with Thomas. Duo consoled himself with that knowledge, and the awareness he had a backup plan if need be, and drifted off to sleep with visions of Heero's cock against the palm of his hand.

Maybe it was just karmic justice. Heero had spent a year dreaming of Duo with no hope of anything happening. Maybe it was just Duo's turn to feel the same.

 

 

Heero nodded to the bartender as the woman put a beer and a chilled glass in front of him. Smoothing down the frost with a fingertip, he poured the beer into the glass, waiting as the foamy head subsided. He doubted whether having a drink was such a good idea, with his stomach in complete knots.

Five minutes to six. He was five minutes early. Nervously he glanced around the bar; happy hour had begun and the place was filling up. So much for his friend's description: wearing a suit and tie. Apparently the service had matched him with someone completely ignorant of the fact that this bar was frequented by corporate types after work. Heero sighed and glanced over the crowd, hoping that someone would step forward with a friendly smile.

Was it the guy with brown hair in the corner? Receding hairline, Heero noted, a bit critically. The man with the curly brown hair was attractive, until he leaned over and kissed the woman next to him, a bit more passionately than might've been expected at six in the evening. Barely enough time for more than a single drink, and already acting inappropriately.

Heero stared at his beer again. At least he'd given a good description of himself. On the short side, with dark hair, and wearing a Preventer's jacket...

Oh, shit.

He put a hand to his shoulder, uncertain, then checked the bar stool under him. Shit! He'd left the office in such a hurry after the last meeting that he'd left without his jacket. He could see it, hanging over the back of his chair; he'd not thought twice, given the warmth of the evening, but had headed straight for the bar. Oh, shit. Now how would the guy find him? Heero sipped his beer, trying to calm his nerves, and swore at himself. Great, he'd not even met the guy in person and already he was screwing up.

No, maybe it wasn't such a major thing. They'd probably laugh about it later, over email. If there was anything he'd learned about his friend, it was that the guy thought about things a lot more than most people. He considered Heero's words carefully. And he had so many interests, that they'd taken to challenging each other on a new topic each week, to the point that meeting in person had become almost secondary to their emails.

Heero now had a massive collection of books on CD that he listened to while walking to and from work, just so he could keep up with his friend's conversations. They'd debated economics, technology, religion, philosophy, biology, sexuality. The best, so far, had been when Heero had the bright idea to challenge his friend to prove the world was round, using only reason and what could be seen around him.

Yes, he definitely wanted to meet this guy in person, and who cared if the guy was mostly balding and the 'brown hair' referred to just a little bit over his ears. That guy over at the end of the bar who kept glancing Heero's way, maybe that was him. Heero swallowed hard, and tried to catch the bartender's attention. He'd send a drink down to the guy, and see what happened. It wasn't that big a deal; people did it in the movies all the time.

Oh, hell. He couldn't do it. He'd just have to email when he got home, apologizing for the confusion, and hope he'd not ruined everything—

"Hey, Marcie, the usu—Heero!"

A hand landed on Heero's shoulder, and Duo was leaning over him, peering down at his face. Heero blinked, and fought the urge to shrink backwards. Oh, great. What if his friend walked in, saw them together, and assumed Heero wasn't Heero?

"Whatcha doing here? Thought your meeting was gonna run late," Duo said, accepting some dark colony beer from the bartender. He loosened his tie, and looked around at the gathering corporate types. "What the hell, they let all the monkey suits out at once? Place looks like a tailor's convention."

"It's happy hour, Duo." Heero snorted, relaxing a little. Duo had settled down just enough of a distance that they didn't look like more than casual friends. He had a sinking feeling his friend wasn't going to show up, and he certainly wasn't going to get up the nerve to send a drink down to the end of the bar to that guy still glancing his way every now and then, but he'd just have to write it off and remember next time not to dash out of his office without his one tell-tale identifier. "Meeting got out early."

"Amazing." Duo whistled, grinning widely. "New world order?"

Heero shrugged, then frowned as he realized. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd stop in and get a drink. Decompress after a day of dealing with lawyers." Duo laughed. "That Brussels case is a living nightmare. Every two-bit lawyer in a hundred mile radius has been put on the case, and we're drowning in paperwork."

"You wanted to take down corruption," Heero reminded him. "If you'd been smart and taken that job in research and development—"

"I'd be wearing a lab coat and dying of boredom." Duo waved off his comments, but his gaze darted back and forth across the bar, as if he were waiting for someone.

Heero couldn't help but glance around. "See someone you know?"

"Not yet." Duo's grin was fierce, but strained; Heero wondered why. "Just... thought I saw someone I knew. But I didn't. So. I'd have expected you to be waiting at home for Thomas to call. How's things? Sorry I've been so busy these past few weeks—"

"Things aren't," Heero said abruptly. "Actually, Thomas and I broke up last month."

"You... " Duo lowered his glass, his eyes wide and startled. "What? When? What happened?"

Heero flinched. This was why he'd not wanted to tell Duo; he'd seemed to like Thomas so much, and got along with him so well, and Heero's own idiotic inability to take that last step into a real relationship. He'd had a good thing going and screwed it up.

"So... why didn't you just tell me?" Duo's voice had gotten softer, and he played with the label on his beer rather than look at Heero. He seemed bothered by something, lines tight around the edge of his mouth, but not annoyed. Disappointed, maybe, or frustrated. It wasn't clear; Duo could be damn hard to read, sometimes.

"I... " Heero stalled with another sip of his beer. "Just... you liked him. And I... " He couldn't find the words.

"Didn't want me to think you were a failure at relationships?" Duo asked gently, but it still hurt to hear the words out loud. Heero found himself relaxing, though; at least he hadn't had to say it. That would've hurt worse. Duo sighed, and nudged him with an elbow. "You're not. I'd never think that. I'd be far more likely to think Thomas was a piece of shit for passing up such a good thing."

Heero blinked, not sure how to take that. Instead, he had another sip of beer, and realized he'd somehow almost finished his drink. Confused and a bit thrown by Duo's words—and finding the knots in his stomach were worse, not better—he waved to the bartender for another drink.

"Cause, y'know, you're a good-looking guy." Duo chuckled, glancing across the crowd. "I bet there's not man, woman or beast in this place that wouldn't jump for a chance to be seen with you."

"Uh." Heero knew he had to be blushing; he covered by drinking his fresh beer as if dying of thirst. Perhaps when he set it down, Duo would've stopped being so un-Duo, and go back to jesting with him about work like normal. Or about what he'd been building. That's what they always talked about, not whether or not Heero was attractive, let alone whether Duo thought Heero was attractive.

"You okay?" Duo eyed Heero's glass with a slight frown. "Work got you stressed?"

"Not really." Heero took another long gulp of beer. Duo still hadn't gone back to being Duo. Heero sighed, figuring the beer wasn't going to help, and set it down on the bar top. "Work's fine. Nguyen's been writing up the review drafts for me, so this year didn't turn out nearly as bad as I expected."

"Damn. Cindy won't touch those unless I get down on one knee and promise her three weeks' vacation and to take her eldest child off her hands." Duo pretended to sulk. "Can we trade assistants?"

Heero grunted, letting that single sound do all the talking for him.

"Yeah, yeah." Duo laughed, punching Heero in the shoulder. "So. Just blowing off non-existent steam, eh."

"Actually... " Heero took a deep breath. "I'm meeting someone here."

"Really?" Duo looked around, curious, then stared at Heero, his brows lowered; he didn't seem angry, just assessing. "So where's this someone?"

"Don't know. Late, maybe." Heero felt like an idiot enough as it was; if he admitted he'd forgotten the one piece of clothing that'd identify him, he knew Duo would tease him about it for at least a month. "You?"

"Uh... " Duo's lips twisted into a smile, then he grinned outright and shrank down, as if embarrassed. "Same. It's really the only bar near work, y'know." He looked down the bar at the other patrons lined up; some seemed to have come with friends, but just as many sat, drinking alone, their heads coming up at each new entry through the door. "Looks like we're maybe not the only ones."

"I guess not."

"One of those your friend?" Duo nodded his head down the bar.

"No." Heero figured that was safe; if he found out later he was wrong, he'd deal with an explanation then. "Just... someone I know through Relena." That was close enough. She'd set him up on this entire ridiculous venture, after all. Heero glanced over at Duo. "You?"

"Me? Oh. Uh, it's... one of Quatre's friends. Just get along really well." Duo seemed abruptly glum, but then he shrugged and the moment was past. "So this is someone else Relena set you up with, maybe?"

Heero knew his face had to be hot, but he scowled to undo the impression of blushing. "Not exactly."

"How exactly?"

"Maybe, a little." Heero took another sip of beer, letting the raised glass block Duo from staring at him with a puzzled expression. He lowered the glass, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So any sign of your... friend?"

"Nope." Duo looked around again, then grinned. "I guess we missed each other. Shit happens, y'know."

"Yeah." Heero could feel the slight buzzing in his ears that mean he'd reached the first stages of tipsiness, and it was for that reason alone that he raised his glass as if to toast. "To shit," he announced, waiting for a startled Duo to clink glasses with him. Heero drank down the rest of the beer, setting the glass down on the bartop with a thud.

"Hey, Heero," came Duo's oddly tentative voice, "you sure you should—"

But Heero was already waving for a third beer, flicking an annoyed glance at Duo. "I'm thirsty."

"Right." Duo settled down, waiting until Heero had his hands around the third glass of beer, and only then did Duo muster a smile. "Well, guess I've been stood up, at least."

"Stood up?" Heero blinked, surprised again. "Who would stand you up?"

"Some guy, apparently."

Heero had to take a second to parse that out, and then he realized exactly what gender Duo had used. "Wait... you're meeting... this friend?"

"Yeah. Sort of a blind date, I guess you'd say."

"Oh." Heero felt like an absolute fool.

He drank down his beer, and wished he'd ordered tequila instead. Like, an entire bottle. Or two. What an idiot he'd been! While he'd kept Duo in the dark about Thomas for some reason that didn't entirely make sense after three beers—but had seemed logical at the time, he was certain—Duo had been dating  _ men _ ? What? When had this started? Why? Why hadn't anyone told  _ him _ ? He would've stripped off his clothes, marched into Duo's bedroom and laid himself right out, willing to wait naked until Duo came home from work if necessary, wait three days and three nights without food, water, or 'net access, even, and if that wasn't a sacrifice to prove himself, he couldn't think of a better—he realized Duo was talking, and dragged his attention away from berating himself and back to his best friend.

" ...Cool guy, and we talk about all sorts of things. I guess I was really starting to like him, but if he's not even decent enough to show up for a drink, I don't know what to think."

"Could be just confusion in time or place, or maybe he got caught up in something," Heero heard himself saying, mouth moving automatically.

"Maybe." Duo grimaced. "Well, I'm not gonna sit around all night and pay outrageous amounts of money for a tab when I've got perfectly good beer at home. You coming?"

Anytime, Heero wanted to say, but managed to hold the word in. He nodded, gulped down the last of his beer, and slapped money on the bar top, picking up his laptop case and following Duo from the bar.

Outside the late spring air was still warm, and the two friends walked in silence for a block or two, while Heero's mind churned around this new piece of information Duo had so nonchalantly dropped in his lap. He watched his feet move, and dimly registered the world seemed to spin in the corner of his vision. He was reaching drunken state, pleasant, but a bit distressing. But it might also form a good excuse, too...

"So... you've been dating guys." Heero stared down at his own mouth, trying to figure out how he'd managed to blurt that out.

"Mm-hmm," Duo replied.

Thanks, Heero wanted to snap. He wasn't sure whether that was a noncommittal sound meaning "only this one and I'm completely uncertain about the whole idea" or "oh, I've dated around for a while and you're the only one who was in the dark the whole time" ...Duo could be so hard to read, sometimes.

"So... " Duo's question trailed off into a mumble. Either Heero was drunker than he'd thought and his hearing was going bad, or Duo was as drunk as he on only one drink.

"So what?" Heero paused at the corner, waiting for the light, and leaned against the nearest light pole. Convenient. Duo smiled, and put his arm around Heero's shoulders, bringing him back upright. He inhaled the scent of sweat and peppermint that hung around Duo, with a faint hint of beer on Duo's breath.

"You definitely had too much to drink, buddy." Duo steered him into the street and across to the other side; his grin showed a bit too much teeth. "Eh, don't look like that, Heero. Everyone does it every now and then."

Heero grunted, then dug in his heels. It was now-or-never; if Duo met up with that friend of his tomorrow and they hit it off, Heero might never get a chance, and he really rather liked the idea of stripping down and waiting in Duo's bed for him, as long as there was the remotest chance Duo would discover him there.

"Heero?" Duo paused, then tugged at him, trying to draw him forward. "Another block. Not home yet. How much did you drink before I—"

"Duo, shut up." Heero closed his eyes, and gripped his laptop strap tightly. If he didn't, he might fall off the world. "I need to tell you something."

"Okay."

Duo's hand slipped from around Heero's shoulders, but Heero refused to open his eyes. He couldn't do this with his eyes open, and not just because the world was spinning. He took a deep breath. "Do you... " No, that sounded like an idiotic thing to say. Don't start by asking if someone thinks you're good-looking. Heero revised, mid-stream, and tried again. "Could you... " No, no, don't ask if there's any chance he could like you. He already likes you, so that would be ambiguous at best. "Would you... " No, out of the question to jump right in and ask to be kissed, damn it. Heero swore at himself under his breath. He couldn't always come up with the right thing to say when sober; how could he possibly do it when drunk? "D—mmff—"

For a split second, he wondered why Duo had put a hand over his mouth. But vaguely he realized Duo's hand had to be just a bit wet, then, or maybe that was a finger—but there was a hand on his hip, and another one at his neck; a thumb brushed his collarbone and Heero's eyes flew open to see Duo's face only inches from his.

"Wa—Mmff—"

Heero tried again, and Duo smiled, Heero could  _ feel _ Duo's lips curving against his, but he'd already opened his mouth to speak and Duo took full advantage of it, tongue running along Heero's lips to dip into his mouth. And Duo's thumb continued to brush against Heero's collarbone in a most distracting manner, and Duo tasted of beer and mint and something sweet but hot and altogether too intoxicating.

But then Duo was pulling away, and Heero leaned forward, reluctant to let it end. Slowly he opened his eyes to see Duo staring at him thoughtfully. Heero blinked, and glanced away, uncertain.

"Was that wrong, Heero?" Duo's voice sounded much younger than it had in years, pitched a little higher; he was panting softly. "I wasn't sure, but I thought that's what—"

"I don't know." Heero shook his head, curtly, when Duo's expression started to fall. "I mean, I... " He frowned, and stared at Duo's lips. "I don't know. Do it again."

"Hunh?"

"More." Heero latched onto that word, despite the world spinning around him. He could feel the length of Duo's body against him, faintly through the alcohol's fuzziness, and he was more than ready to fall forward. Or just fall. "More," he repeated, stubbornly.

Duo chuckled, and the next thing Heero knew, lips brushed his, tantalizing but not nearly as much as he wanted. He heard someone whimper in complaint, and he opened his mouth, seeking blindly, but Duo chuckled again, then hot breath played against his ear.

"Maybe... we should take this home," Duo whispered.

"Home." Heero rolled that idea around in his head, watching it scatter through his thoughts like a gunshot into a domino setup, and nodded. "More. Home. Now."

"Right." Duo steadied him, and laughed as they began walking forward. "Gotta open your eyes, Heero."

"Shut up." Heero held on, cursing the impulse to drink so much.

"If you're drunk," came another whisper, across his ear, "you'll throw up, and I'm not kissing a mouth of puke."

Heero growled, and opened his eyes. Shoving away from Duo, he grabbed ahold of his laptop case and took off. "I'm not drunk," he yelled over his shoulder.

"Hey!" Duo took off a second later, tie flying over his shoulder as he caught up. "Slow, too slow, Yuy," he called, passing Heero with a grin.

"Asshole," Heero growled, and put on a burst of speed.

They came around the corner, slamming into each other in a tumble of arms and legs, keeping their balance only by clawing at each other rather than spin out. Duo tugged on Heero's laptop, throwing himself into the front, and Heero snarled at the dirty play. He caught ahold of Duo's braid, yanked sharply, and passed Duo with a laugh when Duo stumbled. Side by side they pelted down the last half of the block, elbowing each other sharply to get through the front door, and shoved at each other all the way up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. At the front door both had their keys out, and wrestled for a few seconds until Heero got his key in the lock, but Duo was the one who turned the knob and pushed into the apartment first. He stepped across the threshold, his grin wide.

"I won!" He announced, arms out. "What do I get as a prize?"

Heero kicked the door closed, feeling the world tumble and scatter around him until it came to a halt when he dropped his laptop case unceremoniously onto the floor. Ripping off his shirt, he dropped that as well, then undid his pants and toed off his boots while Duo stared at him, arms still wide, but mouth open. Heero stepped away from the pile of clothes, completely naked, and replied, "me."

"Uh." Duo didn't move; he looked like he was about to pass out. "Uh," he said again.

"Uh," Heero echoed, gut twisting. He shifted, suddenly inspired to cover himself with his hands even though he hadn't been that body-shy since he was a small boy. Had he read wrong? So maybe trying to explain that he wanted a chance at Duo, too, was a good idea but maybe saying it after three chugged beers wasn't so smart—

"Damn," Duo whispered, and then he raised a hand, running a finger down Heero's chest. He circled one nipple with a finger, then grinned suddenly, backing away. Almost as quickly as Heero had, Duo stripped down, scattering clothes around him. He looked left, then right, then dashed for his bedroom, yelling, "last one to the bed is a rotten egg!"

Heero gaped, but didn't hesitate. He launched himself forward, grabbing Duo's braid. "Hey!" Duo elbowed him, and the two grappled, until as one tussling, kissing, biting body they crossed the threshold of Duo's room, the last ten feet, and onto the bed.

"Got you," Duo growled, rolling Heero over onto his back. Duo was a writhing, moving creature, hands snaking up and down Heero's body, tongue nipping and licking as Heero thrust upwards, cock sliding along Duo's thigh.

"Got me," Heero agreed, moaning when Duo's mouth latched onto his chest. He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, then closed them again; it was too much. It felt like Duo would eat him alive, and he groaned when Duo's hand closed around his erection. "Shit, shit," he moaned, bucking his hips upwards, and not caring.

Duo chuckled against his skin, and Heero took advantage of the moment to flip Duo over onto his back, straddling him. But for all the words in Heero's head, the only word he could manage was  _ fuck _ as Duo clasped his cock again, stroking once, twice. Heero dug nails into Duo's chest, plucking at one nipple as he rubbed against Duo, jerking his hips wildly. He felt utterly out of control, and didn't give a damn. He opened his eyes long enough to grin down at Duo, before dropping his full weight onto to Duo, pressing his lips against Duo's. Pushing Duo's mouth open with his tongue, Heero drank his fill of Duo, far drunker but more sober than any beer could make him.

"Wait, wait," Duo panted, against him. "I think we... we need something, right?"

"Yes." Heero latched onto Duo's arm, yanking him back down on the bed. "You. In the bed. Not over there. Here." He pressed Duo into the mattress, working his way down Duo's body, licking and suckling until Duo wriggled beneath him, moaning and chuckling at the same time.

"Tickles, damn it, stop that—"

Heero grinned to himself and opened his mouth to swallow Duo's cock. The complaints abruptly ended, broken off into a long groan. Heero smiled around Duo's cock and began to suck, gently massaging the length with his fingertips, then with the palm of his hand and a bit more force. Above him, Duo began a litany of broken syllables that seemed to consist mostly of calling on various gods, a few cries of  _ fuck me _ and something that sounded mostly like oh-shit-don't-stop, if a bit unclear.

Just as Duo's hips began to buck uncontrollably, Heero broke away. He sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, while Duo stared up at him, eyes glazed.

"If you don't get back to that," Duo snarled. "I will kill you. Or die this instant of blue balls."

Heero snorted. "No one's ever died of blue balls."

"I'll be the first, and it'll be on your head." Duo grabbed Heero by the head, tugging at his hair. "My turn to say more. Now."

"I'd rather be on your head," Heero replied, smirking. Duo's eyes had been too wide, too startled at the unexpected blow job, and Heero realized Duo wasn't nearly as experienced as he'd pretended. But Heero couldn't hold back; he'd dreamed of this for a year. He hesitated, though, just as Duo seemed to register the meaning of his words. Heero stared down at Duo's cock in his hand, and bit his lower lip. "I mean... I want it, but if you're not... "

"Get me a motherfucking condom,  _ now _ ," Duo said. "You. Me. The fucking doorknob. I don't care how you wanna do it. I'll try anything. But I'm not going to be second in your life, and I'm not going to watch you go out with other people and consider me the wallpaper. Fuck me, fuck you, do it, now, just don't fucking stop or I'll—"

Heero gripped Duo's cock a bit tighter, pleased when Duo's words broke off and Duo's eyes rolled back in his head. Stroking a few times, Heero nodded, then got up from the bed. He evaded Duo's instinctive grab, chuckling as he swatted Duo's hand away. Strolling from the room, he closed the door halfway behind him to cover, then bolted for his own bedroom. In the side table, top drawer, where, where, where—Heero emptied the drawer's contents, grabbed the bottle of lube and a condom foil, and dashed back to Duo's bedroom.

He found Duo sitting up, stroking his cock, and looking irritated. "Took you long enough," Duo said, wrinkling his nose. He held out his hand, and Heero crawled onto the bed, stalking forward on all fours with the bottle and packet in his mouth. Duo laughed and snatched them from Heero's mouth, leaning up to press a quick, sloppy-wet kiss on Heero. "So. How do you want to do this?"

"Like this." Heero turned around on all fours, looking over his shoulder at Duo.

He didn't really care about the specifics, although some part of his brain reminded him that he had a bit more experience; Duo's first time—and given Duo's confusion with the next few steps—should be as good as Heero could make it, and that was easier if Duo topped. Duo growled, low in his throat, and caressed Heero's hip. Slow going and the physical need to relax, fight instinct, and let things go took Heero over for a few minutes; he ended up with his face pressed against the bedspread, hands fisting in the blanket, shoving back against Duo's hand. So much for going slow. To hell with that.

"Now," Heero panted, "more, now. Fuck."

"Oh, yeah," Duo laughed, then paper ripped. Duo hissed, and a second later pressed something larger, slicker, and warmer against Heero's ass. "Yeah... " He began to push in, and Heero moaned at the sensation, looking over his shoulder to see Duo staring down at his cock, sliding into Heero. Duo's eyes closed for a second, only to reopen, focusing again on their joining, fascinated.

"Ah," Heero managed, wanting to say so many things but not finding any of the words. All his internal systems had gone haywire, neurons sparking like fireflies on speed, nerve-routes flaming as every muscle tensed and relaxed and sent up beacons down his spine to his cock. Oh, fuck, fuck, he wanted to say, but Duo understood.

"Shit, Heero, I've been dreaming about this," he whispered, and seating himself firmly, he pulled out just a bit, and thrust back in.

Heero registered the words, but was too busy gasping at the feeling in his body. He pushed back against Duo, and Duo chuckled, nails digging into Heero's hips. Then Duo's body covered his, arms against the mattress over Heero's, pinning him down as Duo slammed into him, not holding back when Heero yelled but going faster, harder, deeper each time until Heero could only pant open-mouthed, eyes squeezed tight, hard cock slapping against his belly with each drive of Duo's hips—

A hand on his cock, and Heero came instantly, with a long drawn-out moan. His entire body shuddered, and Duo bit down on his shoulder, pumping hips harder. Heero swayed, trying to keep up, and Duo slammed into him, then pushed even further. Ripples of pleasure streaked through Heero's body, an echoing orgasm at the sensation of Duo's cock deep inside him, and he grinned through his sigh, feeling complete.

Duo's hips thrust four or five more times, slowing, gentling, an irregular pattern as if his body were kicking from random electrical charges. Then he stilled, holding himself over Heero as he kissed Heero's neck, harsh breaths across Heero's skin.

"Dreaming?" Heero managed to find enough breath to ask the one word.

"Yeah. Stop moving."

How the hell did Duo manage three words? Heero elbowed Duo. "You're heavy."

"You're comfy. Stop moving."

"Idiot." Heero shoved upwards, twisting around at the same time and coming down on top of Duo, who now lay on his back. Duo just grinned, and cupped Heero's face, pulling him down for a kiss. When they broke apart, Heero glared. "How long?"

"Hmm. Long enough." Duo looked smug. Then he blinked, and groaned, covering his eyes with a hand. "Shit, now I have to think of some way to tell that guy I won't be meeting him after all."

Heero frowned, repeating Duo's words. "What's the guy's name?"

"Don't know." Duo grinned at Heero's scowl. "Hey, I wasn't going to do the kinky tango with him until after the third or fourth date."

"Don't do it at all." Heero let his weight relax onto Duo, pinning Duo to the mattress.

After a second, Duo worked a hand free to poke Heero in the side. "I can't breathe."

"You can't go anywhere, either."

"Hey. Are we like dating now, or something? Because until then, you can't tell me if I can or can't go anywhere." Duo sounded annoyed, but his lips were curled up at the edges, and he kissed Heero on the forehead, softening the complaint.

"We just fucked." Heero closed his eyes, letting the post-sex sleepiness wash over him. Combined with the last effects of the alcohol, he couldn't help but feel sleepy. "I'd say that's a bit more than just dating."

"Depends." Duo freed one hand to scratch his scalp, and collapsed his head back onto the mattress, his free arm thrown out across the bedspread. "I'm in the wet spot."

"Suffer."

The phone began to ring, in the living room.

"Hey."

Heero grunted.

"Where's your gun?"

"Under my pillow." Heero rubbed his nose against Duo's chest, and wrapped his arm around Duo's waist, holding him tight. "No, you can't have it."

The phone continued to ring. Duo tensed, and Heero tightened his grip.

"No. Stay put."

"I'm going to shoot the answering machine."

"It's the third one in four months."

Relena's voice came over the line, echoing through the apartment. "Duo? Heero? Pick up. How did your blind date go?" She laughed; in the background it sounded like Wufei's tenor chuckle, and Quatre's deeper baritone asking something. Relena giggled, and came back to the phone. "Unless, of course, you twits—and that's Wufei's word, not mine—are stupid enough that you can't even accept the least little bit of help. He's volunteering to come over there and knock heads if necessary—"

"Maxwell! Yuy!" Wufei's voice came over the line, barking with all the fervor of a drill sargeant. "If the two of you are moping because you're too stupid to realize you'd set yourselves up on a blind date and thought you got stood up, get over it now. And if you're not that stupid and have managed to figure things out anyway, you'd better be naked or getting there because I'm not putting up with another evening of my wife and Quatre trying to resolve your love life or lack thereof."

There was a slight pause, then the click of the machine disconnecting, and Duo sighed.

"Get my gun," Heero muttered. "I'll get the ammunition."

"Right." Duo sat up, and Heero rolled off him. "We're going to kill him slowly, or extra-slowly?"

"Dispatch Wufei instantly," Heero replied, stretching. "Relena and Quatre—"

He didn't get much further; he was too busy processing that Duo had just grabbed his cock and deep-throated, even though Heero was soft, but that situation was changing rapidly. He gasped, hands falling to Duo's shoulders, rocking against Duo. He glared down at Duo's bright blue eyes, watching him through the tangled mess of Duo's bangs.

"I thought," Heero choked out, whimpering when Duo pulled away from his cock.

"We can threaten them suitably later," Duo said, and stood up to shove Heero backwards onto the bed. "In the meantime, you're not going anywhere."

Heero grinned up at the ceiling, then managed a lazy salute. This was definitely going on the list of reasons it was good to be a grown-up. "Mission accepted," he told Duo.

"Idiot," Duo said, laughing.


End file.
